I said nothing. She hadn't even given me time to breathe. She'd crammed my face into her pussy and instantly squirted love-juice into my mouth. But if she wanted to give me credit for being a super-lover, I'd accept the role.
"You sent me, darling!" She unhooked her legs off my shoulders, slid her hands down into her crotch, squeezed her love-lips together and ran her fingers up along their edges, sealing them shut. "Now I'll do you!"
My prick screamed. Yes, please!
I said worriedly. "I'll take a rain-check, Janet. Your Pa's already sore at me. I'll get off to lunch."
She didn't hear me. "All morning I've been longing to suck you off!" She slipped down off the desk and her hands went to my fly. "I'm crazy about your hot spunk." My fly was open and she had my prick out. She 'pulled down my trousers to get at me better. "Relax, darling," she urged.
Suck it slowly! yelled my prick.
I surrenderedabjectly. "Suck it slowly," I told Janet.
Her tugging at my pants prompted me to raise up. She peeled them down off my feet. I wondered vaguely what would happen if we had a caller, but it seemed quite unimportant. She pulled my knees apart, kneeled between them, rested her elbows upon my thighs and held the shaft of my prick with one hand. Her other hand tumbled my balls and probed a finger up into my Brownie. Her long wet, tongue licked lingeringly up my shaft and over my knob.
She had a hot tongue with a slightly abrasive texture. I had the crazy feeling she thought I was an ice-cream cone she was licking to a point. I was well beyond the point of no return and I relaxed limply in my chair, my arms dangling while my prick eagerly offered itself up to her lips and tongue. She used a new technique. A long, long lick. Her tongue probed right in under me and gave teasing little wet probing pushes at my Brownie. Then she lay her wet tongue flat upon it and then drew it up slowly in one long lick, right up from under me, over my scrotum, licking through the cleavage between my balls and then up the shaft to my knob. That long, long lick was so moving it had every nerve cell quivering. Those long licks drove me crazy. She licked me up to the very point of climax and then stopped dead. She looked at me tenderly, her eyes swimmy. "You're beautifully toned up, darling."
"One more lick and I'll come."
"It's a lovely prick to lick!"
"Enjoy yourself, I can take it."
She blew gently. "Does that cool it?"
"It's only simmering now."
"Don't shoot unless- it's right inside my mouth. I want to feel your seed bubbling inside your balls. I want to feel it shooting up through the shaft. I want all your come in my mouth. Every drop. When you start to come your knob swells enormously; your cock comes alive, rearing up and spurting. That's when you're all mine. All of you. You're there, in my mouth, my prisoner. All your strength and power spurting into my mouth, gloriously. And that does wonderful things to me. Even though I'm only crossing my legs and squeezing my thighs it can make me come tool"
Then what are you waiting for\ howled my prick.
"You suck beautifully," I told Janet.
She took a firm two-handed grip on my shaft and her head bowed. Her mouth came down, a hot, wet enveloping octopus that swallowed up my knob. Her grip was firm, her fingers clenching tightly and restraining me. Her head went up and down, and she sucked. It was like screwing into the hottest, tightest, sweetest pussy I'd ever probed. She pursed her mouth and as her head went up and down, her lips tightened around my cock like the ring of muscle around the entrance to a vagina. Her mouth was full of hot saliva and my knob was steeped in it. She swirled her tongue around my knob and teased its orifice, adding prick-juice to her saliva. She sucked deliciously and boosted me slowly higher and higher. And then I was there. Hovering on the brink!
She knew it. She tightened her grip on my shaft and sucked with redoubled fervour. My spunk spurted. She gulped, swallowed the first oyster and was ready for the next She gulped avidly and happily.
She sucked me to a gentle standstill, then held me in her mouth while my prick calmed down and relaxed. It curled up cozily in her mouth. She drew her head up and away from it. It slid out slowly. She held it with her lips to make it stretch a little, and gave it a kiss. "It's beautiful!"
I was all out of spunk and my prick was drooping. I became aware I was naked from the waist down. I reached for my trousers. Janet eased my feet into them and pulled them up around my waist. "We'll do this every morning, when we're married," she said, starry-eyed. "It'll leave something of you with me after you rush off to the office. Then, when you get home late at night, I'll be toned-up, eager for you."
I closed my zip and made for the door.
Her voice was a wail. "You're not going!"
"I've had no breakfast," I muttered. "I must snatch a quick lunch. I'll be back soon."
Her face was a study in dismay. "Play with me a little first."
"When I get back."
"But I want it now. All that stuff in my mouth has got me excited. Just a quickie!" To add weight to her plea she raised the hem of her skirt up over her belly. My prick opened one eye, stared and stirred. The long, red glistening slit amidst the black hairs of her crotch was almost irresistible.
But Ruth was waiting for me with a pressing problem. I unlocked the door. "I won't be a minute," I panted. "Hold everything until I get back!"
I quickly closed the door on the irresistible vision of Janet with her skirt pulled up high and displaying her burning pussy. Without that tantalization, my prick yawned, curled up and went to sleep.
Chapter 7
Ruth's comfortable, motherly nature had undergone abrupt transformation. When she answered the door she snapped: "Don't stand there like a fool so everyone can see you." She pulled me inside, slammed the door, then scuffed along the corridor to the lounge, leaving me to follow her. She wore men's slippers that flapped like a seal's flippers, and a grubby bathrobe. She was bundled up like dirty laundry.
"We've got to talk," she said. Her eyes ran around the room looking for something she didn't find. She hadn't glanced at me once. Her hair was straggly and her face shone with over-night cream. "We might as well talk in the bedroom," she snapped. The bed was disarrayed and the window shut There was the musty smell of woman's sweat that's simmered under blankets all night. She pulled down the bedclothes, bunched up pillows, flung off the bathrobe and stretched out stark naked. Her eyes kept running around the room as though scared mice would scuttle out from the. floorboards. And she couldn't keep her hands still. They shredded invisible linen. "We've got to talk this over," she said.
"I'm sorry it's all a mess, Ruth."
"I'm sorry too," she snapped. "That doesn't help, does it?"
"When your husband's calmed down," I said, "you have a talk with him. Explain how sorry we are. Try to smooth it over."
She snorted. "A waste of time. He doesn't have to calm down. He's as cold as ice. He's been planning this for months. We walked right into it!" She glared. "Don't stand there looking awkward. Sit down."
There was only one place to sit. On the bed.
Take your clothes off!" she said exasperatedly.